Once, when my curls still tickled, only the tops of my ears,
Mum quietly ironed my daddy's pants - he ate his cold grits and eggs.

She thought I didn't see her see me watching the cat,
Claw at her leg - And so, I just asked,

"Why does déjà vu  only come too late, for me to know what I should do?"
She wrinkled her nose, instead of sayin' and,
Singed her spider-leg fingers.

--

So, I sat there.
Somewhat, unsure.

--

"Baby," she said, as she shook her head, "You shouldn't fret over things like that."
She continued her ironin' - the cat kept clawin',

--

And, I sat there.
Somewhat, unsure.

--

I asked my daddy earlier, yesterday, if he would work late, down at the office.
He began saying some words, but very few were heard,

My attention smelled -
So much -
Like grits.

I saw the wine bottle stolen and my cookies still frozen,
Yesterday,
But, in a way,
Soon after the airport.